Too Much To Ask Redux
by Sorceress Damia
Summary: Melissa Stronghold just wanted a normal life in which she was free to do her own thing: art. But when her beloved grandmother dies, her life is about to change forever, and a normal life is the last thing she will get. Eventual Warren/OC.


After weeks of on-and-off-again rain, the worst day of Melissa Stronghold's life dawned a sunny, warm morning in late April. The dogwoods, lilacs and cherry blossoms were in full bloom, as were her little patch in the backyard of lilies of the valley, her favorite flower. The neighborhood kids congregated at the house down the street with the largest yard, starting an impromptu game of soccer in the bright, warm sun. While their mothers weren't looking, they happily discarded their jackets.

Melissa watched the children play with hollow eyes and a numb spirit as she walked slowly to her car. Her black, four inch heels clicked on the asphalt driveway and her eyes turned from the happy scene towards her black clutch, searching for her keys.

She was dressed for mourning in a black mid-length pencil skirt, white blouse, and a black dress jacket on top. Her great-grandmother Victoria's black, wide brimmed hat with a small lace veil and black leather gloves completed her outfit. Her younger brother, Will, dressed in a black suit and tie, shuffled behind her.

Her mother and father wanted them in the limousine with them, but Melissa had gently refused. She—and she knew Will felt the same way—wanted time alone to think, without having to deal with her mother's fussing. She would have enough of that at the wake, she knew. A drive was what she needed at the moment.

And so they rode, following the limousine to the funeral home. On a normal day, with the weather being this nice, her windows would have been rolled down, and her music would be turned up to eleven. She would be going as fast as she could, faster than the speed limit but not fast enough to warrant a stop.

Today she drove slowly, a sad silence filling the car, until it became too stuffy. Melissa reached to turn the air on before resting her arm on the middle armrest, concentrating on nothing but the road ahead of her. After a few moments they hit a red light.

With nothing else to focus on, Melissa's stare remained on it unwaveringly, and it startled her when Will silently reached over and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. She looked over at him, and he gave her a small, sad smile, a simple reassurance that he was there and everything would be alright. She returned the gesture with a squeeze back and a watery smile of her own.

They held each other's hands tightly as they walked into the funeral home behind their parents. There were rows of chairs lining the aisle, leading to the very end of the room where the casket holding her grandmother Ava's body was laying, surrounded by flowers and pictures of happier times.

Melissa and Will sat in the front row with their mother while Steve Stronghold, The Commander, knelt gently beside his mother's casket. For the first time in some would say ever, he broke down. It was certainly the first time Melissa had seen her father in such a state, although her mother claimed that when she was born, he cried tears of joy that he had a baby girl when he thought no one was looking; likewise, when Will was born, she claimed he also cried that he had a son to carry on his legacy.

But now, the sight of her invincible father weeping so openly, made their loss seem more real, more tangible. Her father, who always boasted about his many victories against various supervillians, who proudly told his children the tales as bedtime stories, was wailing like a schoolboy who fell down on the playground.

At the sight of it, the tears Melissa had been holding in finally spilled over her cheeks. As he stood up, Melissa ran over to him, and with a small cry of "Daddy!" she enveloped him in a tight hug which he returned, and they stayed like this for a few moments, just crying and letting out their grief.

Eventually, other mourners began to file in, all offering the same words of condolences, of how sorry they were, how they understood their loss. To Melissa, the words had no meaning or feeling. All she wished that the black lace veil over her hat was longer and less transparent, as if the fabric could block out their rote, insincere words. She clutched her rosary beads in her hands tightly, trying to focus on the prayer and block out the noise.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Will adjusting his tie awkwardly, his face pale and his eyes permanently fixed to the ground, while one of their father's "colleagues" offered his condolences. Seeing the bench before her grandmother's casket was empty, she quietly disengaged herself from her father's side and approached her brother.

"Excuse me, could I borrow my brother for a moment?" She inquired quietly. Her father's friend nodded his acquiescence, and with a small tug on his coat sleeve, she led him away towards the casket. Will turned to her and gave her a grateful look.

"Pray with me?" She asked softly, motioning towards the bench. He nodded and they knelt, crossed themselves, and, holding each other's hand, prayed in silence. After a few moments, Will broke the silence.

"I can't believe that she's gone," he whispered. A stray tear slipped down his cheek. Tears were welling once again in her eyes.

"I know. I want to be mad that God has taken her away, but I just can't," she whimpered. Will wrapped an arm around her and hugged her close as she started to cry again.

"It was her time to go. He knows what He is doing. She had a good life, and she went peacefully. She wasn't afraid," he said comfortingly.

"But I don't know if _I_ can take it. I miss her so much right now, my heart is breaking. She was the only one that saw us as _us_, as normal individuals. She supported me hiding my powers, and she supported you not having any yet."

"I know, Lissa, I know," he whispered. He kissed the top of her head while she cried, and they descended into silence once more, the noise of people quietly talking and offering their condolences in the background. After a few moments, Melissa sniffled and dried her tears.

"Let's go. I think we've been monopolizing the bench," Melissa joked half-heartedly. Will nodded and with a small sign of the cross, they stood up, moving away from the casket. Turning around, she met the dark eyes of a handsome boy with long, black hair that had a streak of red in it. He was dressed in a suit like Will, but he wore no tie and he did not look happy, as he was glaring at her father.

With a small gasp, Melissa quickly averted her eyes towards the rosary beads in her hands, pretending they were more interesting, not wanting the handsome boy's glare to fall on her. She didn't know who he was, but he looked dangerous. She followed her ever-oblivious brother back to their seats.

From there, she could hear a soft, feminine voice say, "Steve, Josie. I am so sorry for your loss."

"Joyce, it's been too long." Her father replied.

"I know. It wasn't the same after our family moved, but we all missed you, especially Mother. Ava was a beautiful person and a wonderful mentor, and she will be missed," the woman, Joyce, said softly.

"Hey, Lissa, I'm gonna go to the restroom real quick, will you be okay here?" She nodded. Will got up and left, and Melissa focused back in to the conversation.

"Have you met my children, Melissa and Will? I'm not sure where Will is, but Melissa is sitting right over there," Steve pointed out.

"No, I haven't. I can't seem to find my son, Warren, either, he's gone off somewhere. He doesn't like things like this. Oh, there he is," Joyce answered, pointing him out. Suddenly, a loud cry interrupted their thoughts.

"_Oh, ma fille! Ma pauvre petite fille!_"

Her head snapped up to see a tall, blonde woman rushing up to the front. Melissa was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug rivaling her father's that left her gasping for breath, but she welcomed the embrace.

"Are you alright, _ma cherie fille_? I have made you and your family the—how do you say? The comfort foods. You eat them, yes?" The woman, Genevieve Beaumont-Forester, released her and kissed both her cheeks.

Melissa smiled sadly. "Thank you so much for thinking of us, Mrs. Forester, but I haven't really been hungry lately."

"What do you mean, you are not hungry? You have lost much weight! I can snap you like the chicken! And how pale you are! When the summertime arrives, you come with us to France, yes?" Mrs. Forester fussed over her.

"Ma_man_! Could you please _not _make a spectacle of yourself?" Chloe Yvette Beaumont Forester, a younger version of Genevieve, walked down the aisle with her father Nathan Forester, who was struggling to hold all the plastic containers of food his wife had made. Chloe was carrying a violin case, which she set down before hugging her friend.

"How are you holding up, _schlampe_? Will you still be singing?" she joked lightly. Melissa smiled.

"Yes, I'll still be singing. I think I can manage, for her," she replied sadly, "And I'll have you to play the violin real loud in case I do mess up."

"Speaking of the service, the priest wants to speak with all the Catholics in attendance. Right now there aren't enough here to place the pall on the casket," Mr. Forester spoke up.

Her grandmother Ava was a devout Catholic, and as such wanted a Catholic funeral, but she had only converted to the faith after her father was an adult. Her parents were not religious, but Ava introduced it to her grandkids. Genevieve—who was born in France—and Chloe were also Catholic. The three women were in the choir; but Genevieve's American husband, Nathan, was not religious.

That left four to place the pall, and they needed six.

Joyce, the woman Melissa had nearly forgotten about with the arrival of her friend, spoke up, "If there is no one else, my son and I are Catholic. If that's alright with you, Steve?"

"Of course, Joyce. You were close with Mother, so I see no problem with it."

Mr. Forester nodded. "I'll go tell the priest, then. I think the procession is about to start."

* * *

A half hour later, after everyone had said their final goodbyes and the casket was closed, the crowd lined up inside Ava and her grandchildren's parish, St. Joseph's Church. The ceiling was high and had murals of the Apostles Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

The aisle leading up to the altar was lined with large granite columns. The altar was large and ornate, made of white marble with statues of St. Joseph and St. Anne. Many who had never been before stood gaping at the large, beautiful space inside the church that from the outside looked so much smaller.

The priest opened with a prayer and beckoned those chosen to place the pall on top of the closed casket forward. Melissa could feel tears well up in her eyes again. This was it. After this, her grandmother would be buried. She would never see her again.

Melissa took the left corner of the unfolded cloth, and her hand brushed with another's taking the right corner. Looking up she saw the handsome boy from earlier (Warren, she guessed), glaring down at her. She straightened her back and stared at him right back before unfurling the cloth. The stare was broken when she turned towards Will who stood next to her, holding the middle of the cloth.

Behind Will was Chloe at the other left corner. The right corner was held by Mrs. Forester, followed by Joyce in the middle, and the boy at the right corner, whose eyes, while still glaring, had softened slightly at Melissa's silent challenge and the tears mixed with makeup that had stained her cheeks.

They placed the pall on the casket gently, before walking back towards the doors of the church. The music director began to play the piano, and the procession towards the altar started. Behind the priest walked her parents, followed by Melissa and Will, who at this time both wept openly and held each other's hand tightly.

After the priest said the opening prayer, Will stood up and, bowing at the altar, walked to the pulpit.

"A reading from the Book of Wisdom. But the just man, though he die early, shall be at rest. For the age that is honorable comes not with the passing of time, nor can it be measured in terms of years. Rather, understanding is the hoary crown for men, and an unsullied life, the attainment of old age. He who pleased God was loved; he who lived among sinners was transported. Snatched away, lest wickedness pervert his mind or deceit beguile his soul; For the witchery of paltry things obscures what is right and the whirl of desire transforms the innocent mind. Having become perfect in a short while, he reached the fullness of a long career; for his soul was pleasing to the Lord, therefore he sped him out of the midst of wickedness. The Word of the Lord."

The congregation, following along in the missalette, replied, "Thanks be to God." Will stepped down from the pulpit as Melissa and Chloe stood. They walked over to the altar and bowed. Melissa walked up to the pulpit and Chloe, violin in hand, stood next to the pulpit in front of the stand with sheet music.

Melissa looked out at the congregation. Her parents smiled up at her, which she returned. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and steeled herself. She would sing loudly and beautifully for her grandmother, and she would not falter or cry. She opened her eyes and looked over at Chloe. Chloe, in turn, nodded at the pianist, and bringing the violin to her neck, began to play.

Melissa turned to the front of the church and sung, "_The Lord hears the cry of the poor, blessed be the Lord._" Raising her hands, motioning them to follow, she repeated the line with the congregation.

"The Lord hears the cry of the poor, blessed be the Lord.

_I will bless the Lord at all times, _

_With praise ever in my mouth,_

_Let my soul glory in the Lord,_

_Who hears the cry of the poor._

The Lord hears the cry of the poor, blessed be the Lord.

_Let the lowly hear and be glad:  
the Lord listens to their pleas;  
and to hearts broken, God is near,  
who will hear the cry of the poor._

The Lord hears the cry of the poor, blessed be the Lord.

_Ev'ry spirit crushed, God will save;  
will be ransom for their lives;  
will be safe shelter for their fears,  
and will hear the cry of the poor._

The Lord hears the cry of the poor, blessed be the Lord.

_We proclaim your greatness, O God,  
your praise ever in our mouth;  
ev'ry face brightened in your light,  
for you hear the cry of the poor._

The Lord hears the cry of the poor, blessed be the Lord."

Closing her hymnal, Melissa stepped down from the pulpit and bowing to the altar, walked back to her seat with Chloe as Will stepped up to the altar once more.

"A reading from the Book of Revelation. I heard a voice from heaven say, 'Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.' 'Yes,' said the Spirit, 'let them find rest from their labors, for their works accompany them.' The Word of the Lord."

The congregation replied, "Thanks be to God." Will closed the book and walked back to his seat next to Melissa and his parents as the priest got up. The congregation stood.

"The Lord be with you," the priest addressed the congregation.

"And also with you," they replied.

"A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew."

"Glory to you, Lord."

"At that time Jesus said in reply, 'I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him. Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your selves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.' My brothers and sisters, the Gospel of the Lord," the priest finished, raising the book above his head as everyone replied, "Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ," and sat down.

Melissa only heard half of the words the priest spoke in his sermon. She had held on to her tears while she was singing, but she could hold them no longer as Father Andrew spoke of her grandmother's life. She smiled through her tears as the priest spoke of the good times everyone shared with her, and cried even harder when he spoke of how she would be missed. Her mother held her while she cried, whispering words of comfort.

At the end of the homily, Chloe nudged her, and they both stood and again walked to the pulpit for the gathering of the gifts. Chloe's parents stood and walked to the doors to the table with the bread and wine.

Taking a breath, Melissa once again readied herself as the music started and Mr. and Mrs. Forester moved forward with the gifts in their hands.

"_Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,  
beyond my fears, from death into life._

_God is my shepherd, so nothing shall I want,  
I rest in the meadows of faithfulness and love,  
I walk by the quiet waters of peace._

_Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,  
beyond my fears, from death into life._

_Gently you raise me and heal my weary soul,  
you lead me by pathways of righteousness and truth,  
my spirit shall sing the music of your Name._

_Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,  
beyond my fears, from death into life._

_Though I should wander the valley of death,  
I fear no evil, for you are at my side,  
your rod and your staff,  
my comfort and my hope._

_Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,  
beyond my fears, from death into life._

_You have set me a banquet of love in the face of hatred,  
crowning me with love beyond my power to hold._

_Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,  
beyond my fears, from death into life._

_Surely your kindness and mercy follow me all the days of my life;  
I will dwell in the house of my God forevermore._

_Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants,  
beyond my fears, from death into life." _

After the song, Melissa and Chloe walked back to the seats as the congregation knelt and the priest blessed the bread and the wine. Since there were so few Catholics in attendance, the line was short. She did not look (she had tried not to the entire mass, afraid to see the dangerous hatred on his face), but she knew that the angry boy, Warren, was behind her. She quickly and quietly returned to her seat and knelt.

All too soon the service was coming to a close, and the priest stood up to say the final prayer, and Melissa and Chloe went up to the pulpit one final time for the closing song. The pianist began to play, and at her cue, Melissa began to sing.

"_You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord,  
Who abide in His shadow for life,  
Say to the Lord, 'My Refuge,  
My Rock in Whom I trust.'_

_And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,  
Bear you on the breath of dawn,  
Make you to shine like the sun,  
And hold you in the palm of His Hand._

_The snare of the fowler will never capture you,  
And famine will bring you no fear;  
Under His Wings your refuge,  
His faithfulness your shield._

_And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,  
Bear you on the breath of dawn,  
Make you to shine like the sun,  
And hold you in the palm of His Hand_."

At this point, Melissa stopped singing and Chloe and the pianist played a solo. Melissa looked over at the congregation, and her eyes caught Warren's, who had been watching her sing.

His face held no hatred or anger as it had before, but it was still intense. Melissa could not tear her eyes away from his, even as the solo ended and the song continued. Their stare-down gave her something to think about, and the last verses she sang were stronger than all the songs she had sung that day.

"_You need not fear the terror of the night,  
Nor the arrow that flies by day,  
Though thousands fall about you,  
Near you it shall not come._

_And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,  
Bear you on the breath of dawn,  
Make you to shine like the sun,  
And hold you in the palm of His Hand._

_For to His angels He's given a command,  
To guard you in all of your ways,  
Upon their hands they will bear you up,  
Lest you dash your foot against a stone._

_And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,  
Bear you on the breath of dawn,  
Make you to shine like the sun,  
And hold you in the palm of His Hand.  
And hold you in the palm of His Hand._"

At the end of the song, tears trailed down her cheeks and she left the pulpit as the congregation filed silently out of the church behind the casket. The ride to the cemetery was quick, but the committal at the cemetery went even quicker. With one last prayer, Melissa and Will each placed a rose upon the casket.

It was their final goodbye to their grandmother.

* * *

The worst part of the entire day was the reception. Melissa was worn out and just wanted to sleep, even though it was only the early afternoon. Her feet were tired from being in high heels all day, and she was developing a massive headache from all the crying.

Not to mention she was just tired of being around people. It was getting claustrophobic in her house and she just wanted to get out. She'd milled about for an hour already, trying to avoid her parents introducing everyone in the house to her.

She didn't want to meet anyone else, she just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. She saw Will sneak out the back kitchen door and head to Layla's house, so she figured she could do the same.

Now, where was Chloe so she could escape, and how fast could she find her without being pulled aside by another person? She took her cell phone out of her clutch and typed out a message: "SCHLAMPE! Where are you?"

A minute later came a reply: "Parlor." Melissa found her quickly and pulled her aside.

"You ready to haul ass?" she whispered.

"Oh, like hell. Where do you want to go?" Chloe answered eagerly.

"I just want to crash. Can we go to your place?" Melissa asked.

"Sure, just let me get my purse."

Melissa nodded, "I'll be waiting outside." She turned around to leave the house when she nearly collided with someone.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going…" she trailed off when she looked up into the eyes of the angry boy, Warren. Her eyes a widened and she held in a breath. Like before, he no longer looked angry, but his stare was no less intense. They held the gaze for a few moments before Warren nodded to her and motioned his head to the side as he moved away from her. Not a minute later, Chloe grabbed her arm.

"Okay, I'm ready to go. Let's make tracks."

"Man, am I ever ready," Melissa muttered. She just needed to get away, especially from the totally handsome, _very_ intimidating, angry silent boy Warren. After today she probably would never see him again, and that was fine with her. He scared her.

But as they were driving away, her mind focused on one fact: yes, he was silent the entire time. Not one "I'm sorry," or "I understand your loss," came out of his mouth. Only a nod. And as intimidated as she was, she was grateful.

* * *

A/N: I want to keep this note as short as possible, so that I'm not cluttering the story. Please, let me know what you think! Is it better than the original? The entire story will not be like this, I promise!

The next chapter might not be out for a little while, though, because I spent all weekend working on this and NOT on my research paper. I might have something over Thanksgiving, depending on how much progress I make on it.


End file.
